


Alone, Together

by Jay_eagle



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Loneliness, M/M, Skipthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madnina requested some sexual Skipthur, and this is what fell out of my brain - a lonely Martin and a typically helpful Arthur in the flight deck one evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone, Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madnina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnina/gifts).



“Skip? What are you still doing here?” Arthur’s surprised voice echoed through the darkened flight deck.

 

Martin jerked backwards from where he’d been leaning on the console. He twisted in his seat. “Oh. Hello. I didn’t realise anyone was still here.”

 

“I came back to finish the hoovering, I got distracted and forgot about it earlier…” Arthur felt guilty for a second, but then brightened. “But never mind, I thought this way I could chat to GERTI in peace – except now this is even better because I can chat to you!”

 

Martin didn’t reply, just giving a wan smile, his hat now twisting in his hands. Arthur’s face fell. “I don’t have to chat though, Skip – I can leave you alone.”

 

Martin raised a hand to stop him. “No, no, it’s OK. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Just not had the best day.”

 

Arthur looked puzzled. “But you flew us back from Cape Town! You like flying over the Sahara, you said you did…”

 

Martin gave a short bark of laughter, but his face quickly settled back into the sad expression that was worrying Arthur. “I know, it’s just… well, it’s Douglas.”

 

Arthur grew even more concerned. He flopped cross-legged by Martin’s feet. “Something’s wrong with Douglas?”

 

“No!” Martin sounded frustrated. “It’s more… what he’ll say. When he finds out that Theresa’s split up with me.”

 

“She did?” Arthur reached to pat Martin’s knee, making him jump. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

 

“Thanks.” Martin shook his head. “It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. Different worlds, and all that.” He stared at the floor. “Just – I know when Douglas finds out, he’ll tease me more, and that’ll make me feel so much worse…”

 

“You never mind him teasing you normally. Well. Mostly.” Arthur was pondering hard. His hand was still resting warmly on Martin’s knee.

 

“I know, it’s just that…” Martin threw up his arms in frustration. “I know he’s only joking, and usually I don’t mind laughing along. But him teasing me about relationships – it’s too close.”

 

“Too close?” Arthur was definitely bewildered now.

 

Martin groaned. “Too close to the bone.” He ran a hand messily through his hair. “I’m _lonely_ , Arthur. And I know Douglas is single too, but at least he’s _been_ married. He’s had successes to boast of. And I… well, I haven’t.”

 

“You had Theresa!” Arthur was desperately trying to find something positive to say. He hated seeing Skip so dejected.

 

“ _Had_. Ha. We never even slept together.” Martin suddenly blushed, as if he realized he’d said too much.

 

Arthur rushed to assuage the awkward moment. “That’s OK. People don’t always. It’s nice you took your time.”

 

Martin laughed humourlessly. “I tried really hard to be a gentleman. To wait. And then she wasn’t even interested.”

 

“Oh dear,” Arthur said, and stroked Martin’s leg reassuringly again, as if to make up for the inadequacy of the response. He didn’t know how to help at all. “That must have been… sad.”

 

“Try bloody _frustrating_.” Arthur twitched. He’d never heard Martin be even vaguely vulgar before. “I mean, what’s the point? I’m obviously going to be alone forever. I may as well get used to it.”

 

“Don’t say that!” Arthur was horrified. The idea of someone not finding his Skip brilliant enough to form a relationship with was ridiculous. “Plenty of people will want to be with you!”

 

“Oh yes? Like who?” Martin cast a sarcastic glance around the cockpit. “I can’t see a queue forming, can you?”

 

Arthur didn’t know how to reply; he fell back instead on his tactic of stroking Skip’s leg, running his hand from calf to knee firmly. To his surprise, Martin suddenly stilled beneath his touch, his breathing audibly catching. Arthur looked up. Martin had bitten his lip. “Are you OK?”

 

“Arthur…” Martin looked down, met his eyes. “Call me crazy, but…” he caught Arthur’s hand beneath his palm as it reached his knee. “Is this you… suggesting…?”

 

Arthur was utterly confounded. He didn’t know what Martin meant. “Um… yes?” Answering yes to questions he didn’t understand usually worked.

 

“Oh. _Oh_.” Martin froze for a second. “I didn’t know you liked… men.”

 

Arthur frowned. “How did you know?”

 

Martin raised his eyebrows. “Well, _I’m_ a man, Arthur. At least I was the last time I checked.”

 

“I know.”

 

Martin surprised him by properly taking his hand. A flare of warmth shot through Arthur at the contact. “Good.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you want to?”

 

It was no good. Arthur wasn’t keeping up at all. “Want to…?”

 

Martin flushed. “This.” He gestured.

 

Arthur followed the wave of Martin’s hands over his lap. It was dark, but he could still make out… _oh_. Goodness. “Oh, Skip.” The sight of the bulge in Martin’s trousers… suddenly his words made sense. That _hadn’t_ been what he was suggesting… but if Skip was amenable… His mouth flooded, and he licked his lips. Martin’s hands were drawing him up from the floor, gently, pulling him on to his knee.

 

Martin shuffled to make room for him. “You’re sure?” Arthur nodded frantically. He’d caught up now. “I mean – if it’s OK with you, I don’t know if I’m after anything… long-term.” The sadness was back in his eyes, and Arthur wanted more than anything to make it disappear. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

 

“You wouldn’t.” Arthur knew that as surely as he knew Douglas liked to tease them both. “I don’t want you to be lonely.” He tentatively raised a hand to Martin’s cheek. “I get lonely too, sometimes, just living with Mum. Maybe, this way, we can… not be. For tonight.”

 

“For tonight,” Martin agreed, and reached to pull Arthur down into a passionate kiss. His lips were soft, and warm, and Arthur instinctively reached up to tangle his fingers in the little curls behind Martin’s ear. He sighed, and pressed closer to the captain, thrilling at the light tickle of Martin’s tongue requesting entrance. Arthur slid his to meet it, the first touch sending a little electric tingle through him that made him shiver. Martin’s other hand was reaching behind him, untucking his shirt to slide a palm smoothly up his back.

 

They separated with a gasp, and Martin began to softly kiss his way down Arthur’s neck. To distract himself from the extremely pleasant mumble of lips, the sensation of which was going straight to his groin, Arthur whispered a question of his own. “I didn’t know… you liked men too, Skip?”

 

Martin licked lightly at his collarbone through his waistcoat, sucked before answering. “It’s not men. It’s the individual. The person.”

 

Strange warmth flooded Arthur again. He tugged Martin’s face up so he could look at him. “And I’m a person?” Too late he realized it was a stupid, nonsensical thing to say, but Martin didn’t even smile.

 

“Yes,” he agreed, seriously. “You’re a person.”

 

Arthur beamed, and reached for Martin again. “I’m glad.” Their mouths met once more, Arthur’s hands now dancing down Martin’s shirt, flicking buttons open to slide his hands inside. He relished the feel of the sparse hair scattered over surprisingly firm planes of muscle – Skip always looked like he was skin and bone, but Arthur supposed shifting furniture required strength.

 

“Mmm,” Martin hummed against Arthur’s lips. “Feels good.” He slipped his hand further up Arthur’s back in reciprocation.

 

Arthur roamed lower, not sure what would be welcome. But since he’d taken in the sight of Martin’s erection, he’d longed to touch. He dipped his fingers questingly beneath Martin’s waistband, but hesitated as Martin wriggled.  Perhaps that wasn’t OK?

 

But it turned out that Martin just wanted to reposition him. He urged Arthur upwards. “Straddle me,” he said, quietly. “Here.”

 

Hastily, trying not to kick the captain, Arthur managed to swing his leg over. _This_ was better. Skip always had brilliant ideas, especially when Douglas wasn’t around to get there first. Now they were properly face-to-face. Arthur couldn’t resist; he placed both hands on Martin’s cheeks, kissed him deeply, slowly, his tongue delving passionately into the wet warmth. He flicked it in-out, in-out, unconsciously making a thrusting motion to echo the instinctive movement of his hips.

 

Martin groaned abruptly, making him jump; he sprang back before realizing why. His squirming had nudged at Martin’s groin – he looked to be harder than before – he must be uncomfortable.

 

“Let me,” Arthur said, without thinking about it, and reached down to free them both. It felt somewhat… surreal to be grasping Martin’s furiously hard cock as he drew it from Skip's boxers, but certainly not _awkward_ , so that was a relief; Arthur had been a bit worried. But as soon as Martin’s hand wrapped round his own shaft, weird gave way to _brilliant_ – Martin knew just what he was doing, stroking at him as he did the same to Martin, occasionally stretching up slightly to plant another kiss on Arthur’s slightly parted lips – but mainly he focused his gaze on the motion of their hands, stroking firmly.

 

Arthur whimpered as Martin traced a thumb lightly over his slit, tried to return the gesture by slipping and sliding Martin’s foreskin back and forth, an action that produced a delicious shudder that rippled through them both. “Am I helping?” he asked, a little nervously.

 

Martin chuckled, but not unkindly. He sounded… happy, and something in Arthur leapt. “Yes.” Martin’s eyes closed, and he tipped his head back. “God, Arthur, yes.” He sped his hand on Arthur’s cock, and the younger man tensed, eased it away. Martin looked up, confused.

 

“Here.” Arthur took his hand away from Martin, too. “Let me try this.” He shifted forwards in the seat, bringing their cocks into contact for the first time. Now he could brace his feet on the floor and rock into Martin, thrusting against him, bringing them both off.

 

Martin got the idea immediately, reaching his hands behind to grab Arthur’s arse and pull them even nearer together, guiding Arthur’s rhythm. “Christ… so good…” he murmured, and Arthur couldn’t help but kiss him again, revelling in the warmth of Martin’s chest pressed to his.

 

Their movements were getting more frantic, Arthur pushing forwards and _up_ as fast as he could manage, dry friction starting to burn – but neither of them seeming willing to stop. He could feel Martin starting to shake beneath him.

 

“Arthur – are you – nearly…?” Martin couldn’t finish the query, but Arthur understood.

 

“Yes,” he gasped, feeling the tension stretching him about to snap. “And you – please, now - coming – oh –“ He threw his head back and cried out, dimly aware of Martin still moving beneath him until he followed Arthur over the edge a few seconds later. He came silently, clutching at Arthur so hard he’d leave bruises – but Arthur didn’t care, it was worth it for the bliss written over Martin’s features.

 

As the storm receded from them both, the last quivers dying away, Martin reached a warm thumb to Arthur’s cheek, leaving an unintentional sticky smear of their come on his cheekbone. “Thank you,” he murmured, softly, and kissed Arthur with tentative tenderness.

 

Arthur hummed with pleasure, enjoying the languor that for him always followed a truly intense climax. He rubbed Martin’s leg, feeling them both soften, the kiss lazy and deep. Eventually he leant down, rested his head on Martin’s shoulder. “No need to thank me. I enjoyed it too.”

 

Martin’s arms encircled his back, keeping them close together. There was no room for loneliness here, Arthur thought, fuzzily. None at all.


End file.
